Spider-Man One-shots and Drabbles
by DarkStarsShineToo
Summary: A collection of one-shots and drabbles based on the movie the Amazing Spider-Man and its characters. I do not own Spider-Man nor any of the other characters I include in these stories unless I specify that it is an original character. Rated T for kissing and slightly adult references. Genres vary according to stories, though most will be romance.


Red

Red.  
It's a nice color. Yes, a beautiful color. One of the best, Gwen thought, sharing its place only with deep blue.  
But back to the red.  
Red like a ripe strawberry. Red like a crisp apple. Red like the drapes hanging over the windows in her living room. Red like the colored pencil in the rivet on her desk. Red like the Spider-Man suit. Red like blood.  
Gwen abruptly shot up in her seat at this thought.  
Ultimately, she decided, she should be proud to have been distracted this long. She had, since Peter left, been trying to occupy herself but had found little to do other than worry about him.  
That is, until she came across the color red. She had, since then, spent nearly twenty minutes pondering the color, eyeing the brick red colored pencil in the divot at the top of her desk.  
Now, as she had brought up the thought of blood in her own mind, she had been shot out of her pondering of the color and was now back to worrying over Peter.  
Gwen spent the next few minutes calming herself, trying to ease her mind back into her musings. Eventually she succeeded, and the color red took over her mind again. She eyed the red and white duvet on her bed.  
Red, She thought. Tomatoes. Red. Roses. Red. Spidey suit. Red. Clown nose. Red. Hot burner of a stove. Red. The sweater hanging visible on her open closet door. Red. Red. Red.  
... Loving him is red.  
This thought struck her suddenly, an odd feeling taking her over. Yes, loving him is red. Red, red, red, red. Red, red, red, red.  
A small smile found its way onto her lips as the stereo in the corner of her bedroom that had previously been softly playing an unfamiliar country song began to play Taylor Swift's "Red."  
Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead-end street.  
A red Maserati, Gwen thought, twiddling a strand of her blonde hair between her fingers.  
Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ended so suddenly.  
When he swung on his webs the city blurred by so fast; Gwen could hear the wind whistling past them whenever he took her with him. And yes, passionate. Oh, so passionate. Ended suddenly, sure, she supposed. But started again just as suddenly.  
Loving him is like tryna' change your mind once you're already flying through the free-fall. Like the colors in autumn so bright just before they lose it all.  
Gwen was helplessly in love with Peter. She couldn't stop loving him if she wanted to. Which she really didn't. Though maybe she should; she never really knew.  
She loved the autumn. One of her favorite memories of her first year with Peter was when they had come across a pile of dead and fallen leaves on their way to school, and Peter had taken it upon himself to push her into it. This had resulted in a battle very much resembling a snowball fight, with colored leaves flying everywhere and ending with the pair arriving late to school with leaves and twigs stuck in their hair.  
Losing him was blue like I'd never known. Missing him was dark grey all alone. Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you've never met. But loving him was red. Loving him was red.  
Is red, Gwen corrected the lyrics with a stern swish of her red colored pencil. Red like my pencil. Red like the curtains. Red like my cherry-colored nail polish. Red like mom's strawberry shortcake. Red like the carnations in the flower box outside the window. Red like the Spider-Man suit. Red like my love.  
Touching him is like realizing all you ever wanted was right there in front of you. Memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words to your old favorite song. Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword and realizing there's no right answer. Regretting him was like wishing you never found out love could be that strong.  
Gwen could remember Peter letting her run her hands over his chest one night when they should have been asleep but were too caught up in each others presence to even think about it. She had whispered that he was all she wanted, forever. He had returned the words.  
She memorized him like the song playing on the radio right this second; she analyzed the words and committed them safely to memory.  
Fighting with Peter was very frustrating for her. Trying to do a cross word and realizing there's no right answer? More like trying to make an antidote to save a city, but this time around not knowing anything she had to do.  
Losing him was blue like I'd never known. Missing him was dark grey all alone. Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you've never met. But loving him was red. Oh red burning red.  
Losing him would be blue, Gwen decided. Blue like that of the color corresponding with the red on his suit. Blue like that of the ocean after a storm or perhaps a beautiful night sky. But blue, Gwen thought, was not as good as red. Burning red.  
Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes. Tell myself it's time now, gotta let go. But moving on from him is impossible. When I still see it all in my head. Burning red! Darling it was red!  
Yes, flashbacks and echoes. Such as those she experienced while listening to music that reminded her of Peter.  
Oh, losing him was blue like I'd never known. Missing him was dark grey all alone. Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you've never met. Cause loving him was red yeah yeah red. We're burning red. And that's why he's spinning round in my head. Comes back to me burning red. Yeah yeah.  
Yes, missing Peter had been grey, all alone. So lonely. She'd been alone after her fathers death, her family breaking apart. Peter, her love, fighting to keep his promise to her father. But that was over with, and Gwen preferred not to think of it. She much preferred the burning red love.  
Cause love was like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street.  
RED MASERATI. IS. LOVING HIM IS.  
Gwen thought righteously as she threw the red pencil at the stereo as punishment for getting the tenses wrong. Is, she thought again with a sharp nod.  
Yes, loving him IS red.  
Peter returned later that evening, and crawled through Gwen's window only to have a number of things thrown at him as his feet touched the floor. These things, he observed, were all curiously red.  
Gwen had collected those things mere moments before in a sudden torrent to find more red than the Spidey suit and strawberries. Among the pile were a bright red beanie baby, her little brothers red fire truck Hot Wheel, a red Christmas scarf, and a button that fell off her red sweater.

Peter rose an eyebrow at Gwen. Her only response was to shrug and smile childishly, then stand and saunter up to stand before him.  
"Red." She whispered, pinching at the material of a red section in his suit, then taking his hand and pressing a red button into his palm.  
"Wha-" Peter began, only to be cut off.  
"Red." Gwen repeated, which did not, in fact, clear anything up for Peter.  
With that Gwen kissed him, and Peter forgot about his question as the kiss led onto a heated make out session.  
And thus ends the story of Red.


End file.
